The window only opens so far in the room of the American Inn You blew your smoke ring right up against the screen You're paying the 200 fine if we get caught I'm threatening You won't help You're six foot four inches tall - this you told me in the car Upon remembering this I feel an aching loneliness That I suspect is taking over me like a plague Throughout the night your leg shook And I could feel your bronchitis-filled chest Fears swirled around inside my head but the blue light and white sheets Are too drained to speak it And that painting above you in mountains of relief But there's no relief Ever I don't know whose going to stop me in these tracks I had moments of utter panic when we crossed the Minnesota river On the drive back I feel like and ashtray of plastic and black Maybe you'll carry me across the room to another time and then I'll know I'm stuffing words you dropped in my cigarette pack when I get home They'll be a net I'm always trying so hard you know I've heard it all said before Now I'm in the mirror and I'm brushing my hair the moment Before I open the door and come to you I'm a traitor of futures for minutes and seconds You're stretched out on the hotel bed The news is on and the stories horrify and through it all We turn each other on and the your fingertips come up through my hair I was born with magical powers and Now they're gone